Prince of Persia: The Awakening of the King
by Southpaw369
Summary: The war is over. Babylon is safe once again, but how long can it really last. The Prince is soon to be king. A new menace, of which the Prince has never seen, is threatening Babylon. Takes place after T2T. im so sry guys..been hectic, it will be here soon
1. Long Awaited Freedom

**Prince of Persia: The Chronicles of the Prince**

**Book I: The Awakening of the King**

Chapter 1

Long Awaited Freedom

_Most people think Time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction, but I have seen the face of Time, and I can tell you, they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm. You may wonder who I really am or why I say this. Come, and I will tell you a tale like none you have ever heard._

The Prince began the tale of his devastating adventure through the flow of Time. Claiming the enchanted Dagger for his father so many years ago had not seemed like such a foolish idea. He now realized how Farah had tried to stop him from unleashing the ravaging Sands of Time, how The Vizier had tricked him into opening the hourglass. He was young and foolish back then and only wanted pride. No, there was no excuse for what he had unleashed upon his people.

He continued with how he defeated The Vizier in Farah's own bedroom. He told the beautiful warrior about his rewind through the Time stream to before he opened the hourglass. The expression on Farah's face was hard as stone. She was taking this all in without signs of emotion.

The Prince came to his trip on the boat, where Shahdee had boarded his ship and killed the Prince's men. He told her about his trip through past and present on the Island of Time. He told how he had escaped the threatening Dahaka and death itself. When he came to the part about him and Kaileena, he paused.

"What is it, Prince?" Farah asked quietly.

"What happened next is hard for me to say. So much pain… anger… hatred…yet so much sadness," the Prince said softly.

He began to explain how he was attacked when he sailed into Babylon. He told her how he and Kaileena had been separated. He told her how the Vizier had mercilessly killed the woman he had loved, and how he had become the Zevran, the leader of the Sands of Time.

The Prince stopped, and heaved a deep sigh. His head hung low and he stared out into the warm air.

"It's ok Prince." Farah said while resting her cool hand upon the Prince's shoulder. They stood together, looking out into the beautiful sunset that flooded Babylon, with its magnificent reds and oranges. The Sands of Time had left the Vizier and his body, which had returned to its natural state, lay in a scarlet puddle on the cold stone rooftop of the terrace.

The fires of Babylon had been doused long ago. The city only lay in ruins. The streets were filled of corpses and crumbled stone. The creatures had vanished when the Vizier had been killed. The Dagger of Time, that the spirit of Kaileena had taken, was only a distant memory of the battle-torn Prince. The Dagger that had caused so much pain and suffering, was finally erased from existence. He had been released from the darkened Daggertail that had tainted his very soul. The Dark Prince was no more.

The Prince and Farah walked hand in hand as they slowly descended the terrace. They walked the empty streets. The Prince, his head hung low, was saddened by the death of his people, people he had once fought for, people he had loved, people he was soon to rule.


	2. Start of Something New

**Prince of Persia: The Chronicles of the Prince**

**Book I: The Awakening of the King**

Chapter 2

Start of Something New

The Prince awoke to rocks tumbling down to the stone street. He had not been able to make it back to his palace. He pulled off the tattered piece of cloth he had used for warmth the night before. He stood up from the filthy ground, feeling like a street rat. He tried to remember what had happened the previous night. He remembered Farah and he walking back from the terrace. He remembered kissing her before falling into a deep slumber that he had not done in many a years. He looked around, taking in everything from the toppled ruin of the buildings, to the bright sun in the brilliant blue sky. Farah was not beside him.

"Farah!" He called out, his voice echoing through the city.

He took off running; there was no answer from her. He turned away from his "sleeping quarters" and ran around the corner. Still nothing. He turned another corner of smoldered building. There he saw her, her beautiful body standing still, but her long silky hair flowing through the morning breeze. Her bow drawn and aimed steady, THWAP! An arrow diced through the water. A large fish erupted to the surface.

"Nice shot!" The Prince yelled through the air with a smirk on his face.

Farah turned to face the Prince. She gave him a smile and then jumped from the boulder she had stood upon. She struggled through the incoming tide and picked up her prize before the sea foam monster could swallow it whole. The Prince walked up to Farah and greeted her with a kiss. She looked up into his big blue eyes, and he into hers.

"I couldn't find you," he said "I feared the worst."

"I woke up not too long ago, I decided to scavenge for food. One of you villagers gave me the idea to fish." She finished with a giggle.

They took the fish over to a nearby rock, under one of the magnificent palm trees of Babylon. The sun felt warm against the cool breeze blowing off of the ocean water. The Prince carefully removed the arrow that had pierced through both sides of the fish, an excellent shot. He then took the arrow and slit the stomach of the bass. Both Farah and he were starved from not eating that they tore apart the fish, and it was diminished within minutes.

They rose after they had finished, and they strode down the sparkling sand that lined the edge of the ocean. They need not be afraid of the sands no longer. The Dagger was gone and the Sands locked away within Kaileena's spirit. He could enjoy life once again. He would become King of Persia, and he would make all better, or would he.

There is no way I could be as great a ruler as my father was before me. He knew exactly what to do in every situation, but that only led him to death.

He pondered on as they walked, hands held, down the beach. Neither said a word. The Prince looked up when he heard faint voices on the air. They continued walking until they came to a group of villagers, mostly men, but a few women in the crowd. The group was clearing the streets of the Prince's city. They all turned to face the honorable Prince.

"All hail the brave and mighty Prince of Persia!" the Old Man yelled to the crowd. It was the same man that had helped the Prince and gave him advice before he ventured to the Island of Time. The same man that told him he would die, but the Prince had proved him quite wrong.

The crowd erupted. Cheers and tears sounded from the villagers. Gratefulness and mourning swept the city. The Prince walked through the crowd and ventured up to the Old Man.

"Good morning Prince, it is an honor to be in your presence after what you have done for Babylon, for the world."

"All in a days work my friend." The Prince said with a chuckle as he patted the man's shoulder. "Everything is back to normal and we shall start reconstruction of the city as soon as we are able.

"We have already begun." The Old Man said while gesturing over to the Prince's left. The streets were clear and the homes were being scrubbed of dirt. The damage to the buildings was not a lot and they were looking almost new. "You will find that about a fourth of the city has been swept and the damage is near gone."

"When did you have time to do all of this?" the Prince asked in astonishment.

"You of all people should know that anything could be done when faced against Time."

The Prince smirked. He did know this was true, more so then he wanted to. He still would not forgive himself for unleashing the Sands upon his kingdom. He put on a fake smile.

"Something bothering you, my Prince?" the Old Man asked.

"We will talk about it some other time." He replied and patted the man on the shoulder once again, before walking towards Farah. He stood there staring at her, a smile upon his face. She turned.

"What is it Prince?" she asked with a giggle.

"Umm…nothing, can you believe what they have accomplished today?" he replied.

Farah shook her head in disbelief. She could not understand how they had done it either. She eyed the Prince as he stepped forward and put his hand upon the cool stone of the home he was standing before. When he was done expecting, he turned around and walked up to the Old Man once again.

"This is amazing work, but I am afraid we will have to hold on the excitement." The Prince said in a saddened tone.

"What ever for?" the Old Man asked.

"We must plan a ceremony, and a burial. Many of my people have died because of what I have done. Many people have fallen by my hand."

"Those were not your people Prince, they were transformed by the Sands of Time. You had no other choice." The Old man said sharply, but reassuringly.

"They were still my people! I killed them!" The Prince rose up, furious, "It does not matter if they were tainted by the Sands, they were all once human."

"If they all disappeared when the Vizier was killed, what is the burial for?"

"The people who died fending off those retched creatures so Farah and I could escape," the Prince sighed heavily, "and my father."

"You're father, the King of Persia. You know this means that you will be King?"

The Prince hung his head low. He did know what it meant, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to lead these people. Farah grasped his arm and wrapped hers around his.

"Yes, he knows…and I will be sitting right next to him as he begins rule over Babylon."

She smiled at the Prince, his eyes lit up. He turned his head to face her.

"You will?" he asked.

"What, were you not expecting that Prince?" Farah asked staring deeply into his eyes. The Prince smirked.

"Not at all." He said laughing.

"You're the worst." She said laughing while her and the Prince walked off to his throne room.

How is it that even when I'm down, Farah seems to lift my spirits. It is not time to think of this now. There is preparation to be done in the honor of my people.


	3. One Last Farewell

**Prince of Persia: The Chronicles of the Prince**

**Book I: Awakening of the King**

Chapter 3

One Last Farewell

It had been three days since the reconstruction of Babylon had begun. With the city finished, the Prince rose to his feet and walked over to a pond. He splashed his bright blue eyes with water; he ran his fingers through his rigid black hair. He had not bathed in some time. He stood, watching his reflection in the water dance around as the beads of rain plummeted from the dreary sky. He was troubled today. The ceremony was closing in on him. He would have one last farewell for his father. It would be difficult for the young Prince.

He ventured down the street as thunder clapped and lightning sparked through the sky, illuminating his way. The Prince tried to waste as much time as possible. For these past years he was having to race against it, now he is just trying to stall.

Prince sloshed through the puddles as the black and grey clouds opened up upon him. Rain, cold, wet rain, drenched him in a single downpour. He looked to the sky.

Of all days, why today? So much is happening, so little I can control. I am sending my Father and my people to the Gods soon. This day will not end cheerful.

The Prince staggered up the stone steps, being careful not to slip. He entered though the great wooden door into an empty hallway. He took the secret passage he knew so well, and pulled closed the embroidered drapery behind him as he came out at the other end of the stone hallway.

People, many people were chatting, all about what was to come. As the Prince walked in, he placed his hand on the wall and leaned against it. There before him was his father's casket, with him inside. Farah came running over.

"Prince! Where have you been? What has happened? Is it raining?"

"I went for a walk, nothing has happened, yes it's raining." He answered in a snappy tone.

"I'm sorry Prince, I know how hard this must be for you." She replied.

She took the Prince's hand in hers and walked him over to the casket. He put his hand upon the beautifully carved wooden coffin that his father lay in. He opened the casket and looked down upon him.

"I am sorry father. I let you down. I was not able to save you from those creatures. It was my fault for releasing the Sands." A single tear slid down his face. He stood tall and faced the crowd. Silence flew through the throne room.

"We are all here on this day, to recognize, and say farewell to the great citizens of Babylon. These people gave their lives to help Farah and I escape so we could reach the Vizier and end this war!" the Prince shouted, and Farah came up to his side.

The crowd erupted in cheer.

"But now, we must leave these great people and celebrate their lives in sprit."

Tears appeared in the crowd. Many wives and mothers mourning the lost of their loved ones. You could see the streams run down the villager's faces. The Prince waited in silence thinking of what to say next.

"Losing a loved one is hard," the Prince said, "We are also here to mourn the death of my father, the King of Persia." With those words, the Prince took his father's sword, which still had the stain of scarlet from the Vizier upon it, and held it up high in the air. Farah started clapping slowly, more and more people joined in, the clap getting faster and faster, until it sounded like the thunder that had rolled through the sky earlier. As it died down, the Prince stepped up to his fathers throne, his throne, and placed the engraved sword above the wooden chair. There it hung, shining its light upon the Prince's face. He stepped down from the alter and walked back over to Farah.

"I owe my life to that sword. I found it lying beside my slain father. After I was attacked, I used it to find my way out. I later killed the Vizier with it, but this was not how I wanted to acquire the Sword of Kings. It was a tradition that it would be passed down from King to King. It will be my turn to rule over Babylon soon enough." The Prince gestured to the throne. "But for now, we must mourn the loss of our loved ones and the King of Persia, my father…" the Prince's voice became soft.

"Everyone please file out as we continue with the ceremony. Make your way to the Hanging Gardens." Farah said while clutching the Prince's hand in hers and pointing out the back door. "Lets go Prince," she said. "There isn't much time left. We must get this casket out there, but first…" She took the Prince and kissed him upon his lips, arms tight around each other, the bond between them not broken. Standing, lips moving, until they became two again.

"Wow," the Prince muttered. Farah giggled and continued outside with the Prince beside her. They walked down the many corridors of the palace and through the embellished archways of the extensively gleaming hallways. When they arrived at the Hanging Gardens, Farah awed at how decorative it was. There were lights everywhere, strung from wall to fence surrounding the entire garden. All of which were illuminating the contrast between the dull greens and browns of the plants and the vibrant reds, blues and yellows of the many flowers. Farah stood still, not budging until the Prince brought her back to reality.

"Its beautiful…" her voice trailed off into nothing.

"Yes, but now is not the time for sight seeing, we must start the second half of the ceremony." The Prince countered with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He grabbed Farah by the arm and took her across the grass that was moistened from the rainfall just before. Farah followed effortlessly and the Prince climbed to the top of the balcony, overlooking the crowd.

"Here is the final resting place for our people and the King. They will be cremated here in the gardens. The fire pit is ready for it to begin." The Prince signaled to the back of the crowd as two well built men covered in chain mail, hauled the magnificently hand engraved casket forward to the fire pit. They placed it dead center, the bodies of the many others joining it. The Prince stepped down from the balcony, reuniting with Farah. Together they sauntered to the ditch where they stopped, the Prince grabbed a torch, and hand in hand, he and the Princess touched the flame to the casket. The flame elevated up at least five stories. The trench was built in such a way where the fire spread from every angle away from the center casket. The inferno stretched around and formed a ring around the perimeter of the depression in the soil.

"Goodbye father," the Prince said as thick black smoke ascended and dissipated in the night air. Farah continued to hold his hand while the Prince held the torch in the air. "It is done. Let us say one last farewell to these admirable people." The Prince raised the torch higher; the guards around the outside of the crowd raised them as well. The residents raised their hands to the darkened sky and wished a safe journey to all.

"This fire will burn through the night," Farah said, standing before the villagers, "those of you who wish to stay, may, all that don't, please return to your homes." Farah turned to the Prince, "What is it that you wish to do?"

"I'm gonna sit here for awhile," The Prince replied while staring at the blazing flames, "you should leave, its getting late."

"I am not leaving you Prince, whether you like it or not." Farah stood beside him and the Prince took her in his arms, her head upon his shoulder. Together they looked out into the night sky, the stars barely visible through the thick smog. Several villagers began to leave, while others found a spot on the grass and reminisced about their times with their loved ones.

The fire burned on through the night, just as Farah said it would, most of the citizens asleep by now, or beginning to drift off. The flames began to die down roughly at two in the morning. A guard finally doused it when the flame had become shorter then three feet. The Prince lay on the dry grass with Farah still in his arms, neither moved, nor stirred until the sun rose over the hills, its brilliant light creeping over the stone homes throughout the city of Babylon. Farah stirred.

"Prince…" she said in a groggy tone. She turned her head, her hair frizzled from her nights slumber upon the earth, to glance at the Prince. He was still dreaming, but sweating. He began to shake, crying out. "Prince!" Farah shouted, "Prince wake up!" she gave him a shove and shook him until his eyes forced open. He sat up, panting, his breath getting heavier and heavier, until it finally began to decrease in speed. He gasped. "What happened?" Farah asked, a worried look on her face, "Was it a nightmare?"

"The kingdom is not yet saved."


	4. The Vision Unwrapped: part 1

**Prince of Persia: ****The Chronicles of the Prince **

**Book I: The Awakening of the King**

Chapter 4

The Vision Unwrapped

The sun was completely out by now. The Prince was pacing quickly around the gardens. He and Farah had spent the last hour or so trying to determine what the nightly vision withheld.

"What exactly did you see?" Farah asked once again.

"I already told you Farah," Prince answered, a hint of harshness in his voice, "I am not saying anymore until we can sit with the Old Man. He has helped me before, I am sure he will make something of this mess."

The Prince and Farah started off back through the hallways they had once ventured through. The two of them continued through the city, every once in awhile Farah stopping to question the Prince. When he did not respond, the huntress had to run to catch up.

After some time, the Prince took a back alley and vanished around a singed brick corner. Farah followed and came face to face with the rugged young Prince. She gasped and clutched her chest.

"You frightened me Prince."

"We have arrived." He said pointing to a rottened door that reviled the entrance to the sacred room. The Prince pushed open the door as it creaked loudly, Farah followed close behind.

"I must speak with you now," the Prince said, "It's urgent."

"Sit my Prince," the Old Man gestured to the empty upholstered seat. "You as well my Princess." The Old Man hobbled over and took a seat as well. "Now, tell me what is on your mind." The Prince hesitated.

"I am not sure of this, but I think it might have been a vision, into the future. I saw it as clear as day, this was not an ordinary dream, or nightmare. In it, I saw Farah tied to cross, I was chained to two pillars, and fire was blazing around us. I was yelling something, but I can't remember quite what it was. Then I changed views and saw this creature. It was white-gray, a ghostly tint to it, though it was not an apparition. It floated above us, laughing, and it was holding…something, I am not sure, it was dark. Behind it was a gate, some sort of portal that it had appeared from." The Prince finished in a sigh. Farah had a very stone cold expression upon her face; a hint of terror began to slowly appear.

"Do you know where you two were, was it a building, a field?" the Old Man questioned.

"I don't know." The Prince replied.

"Okay, now what did this creature look like, do you remember any distinct characteristics?"

"It was a light grey like I said, some what transparent, but not much. It was about my height, it was human shape, not much more…but, he did have a symbol on his chest." The Prince stood up and walked over to the Old Man, he grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and rough sketched the image. It was circular with intricate designs in the center.

"It looks similar to a medallion that I had once had, but that was long ago. I gave it to the Maharaja of India." The Old Man explained. Farah stepped back.

"That is my medallion." She said, reaching into a tiny brown leather pouch that hung from her slender hip. Farah pulled out a small golden medallion, about the size of an apple. She held it up showing the figures on the surface.

"This is it." Farah pointed to it, "My father gave it to me about 9 years ago. I have kept it close ever since. I allow you to use it in any way you wish, but how could the design on the fiend's chest be the same as my medallion. Does this involve me?"

"It might Farah, if this dream was real…"

"Which it very well could be." Said the Prince, interrupting the Old Man.

"So what do we do? How can we find out if the dream was a real vision?" Farah questioned. Her voice was full of horror, but at the same time, excitement.

The Prince stood up and paced the room. Walking back and forth, pondering about what they had uncovered. His blue eyes traced around the room as Farah and the Old Man discussed the probability that the dream was real. He continued to walk the cluttered hallways, being careful not to knock one of the many wax candles that were the only light-producing source in the room. He kept going back to the part when he was yelling. What was he saying?

"These are my people, this is my war, I will not be afraid." The Prince muttered, a smirk appearing on his face.

"What was that Prince?" Farah asked, resting a cool hand upon his shoulder.

"I remember what I was yelling in my dream. These are my people, this is my war, I will not be afraid, and…" His voice trailed off.

"And what Prince?" The Old Man replied, standing off to the side, leaning on his cane.

"The remains of a building, it looked like the throne room, there were steps, lots of them, and the two columns I was chained to had the remains of an archway behind it. It looked similar to the wall behind the King's throne, my throne."

"This is great Prince," Farah said leaping at him, "if this is real, then we will know where it happens." Her voice slowed down tremendously. "But if it is true, then we will be enslaved and hung where we can die." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes Farah, this is what is to come if my dream was a vision," The Prince said, rubbing Farah's shoulder, "but, if it is real, we can stop it."

"How Prince!" she yelled. "You have no more Sands of Time, the tainted soul inside of you is gone, you cannot alter the time stream any more, we are hopeless. Even if we team up again, there is no way to escape from that…that thing that is going to capture us! We cannot win!" She fell into Prince's arms, tears streaming from her delicate eyes.

"Farah, I have taken out many a foe by my own hand, I have defeated the Vizier twice, and I stopped death itself. I am ready and willing to take on this task. I have already lost some of my people, I will not let any more harm come to them, but in order to do this, I will need your determination and steady hand by my side to help my take down this menace!" the Prince's voice echoed through the small hut. "Please Farah, I have seen you with your bow, your arrows never miss their target." Farah turned her head to look at the Prince. She nodded.

"Let's do it." She said, her tears had stopped running down her check, and the Prince wiped away the remains with his hand. She grasped the Prince's torso in a hug while her breathing settled and her heartbeat returned to normal.

"It is settled then," the Prince said while looking towards the Old Man, "now we must find this gate that this creature is supposed to appear through."

"I might be able to help you there Prince." The Old Man said. He hobbled over to one of his several rickety bookcases, and pulled a large black leather book from one of the shelves. The cover read The Depths of the Darkness. He inhaled deeply and released it as a cloud of dust erupted from the surface. He set it on the table and began to scan the pages. Every time a page was turned, he was careful not to tear it. A musty smell blew through the air, reveling that the book had not been opened in many years. The Old Man stopped at a page about halfway through the book.

"What have you found?" the Prince asked.

"The Medallion of Harutah." He said. "It has been passed down from royal family to royal family for centuries." He continued to scan the page. "It was once used to seal a demon like creature back in its own dimension. The rest is unreadable. This page has been singed, only this page." He said flipping through the rest of the book. The Prince stood puzzled. He turned to face Farah.

"This could not have been a mistake," she said, "someone must have tampered with it. Who else has access to this room?"

"Nobody, but it wouldn't be hard to break in. There is not sign of anything wrong that I have noticed." The Old Man told the Prince. "I can't see how they would have gotten out."

"What do you mean?" the Prince asked.

"I have an opposite spell on this place. Instead of having unwanted visitors not be able to enter. I have made it so they cant leave. I have also placed many enchantments upon my books and knickknacks. This is why I am so perplexed, only a great deal of magic could have broken my spell, and if they could break the spell, then why not take the book, or that page, why burn the one corner?"

"He wanted us to find him. He wants to challenge us." The Prince drew his sword. "We have company."

Farah reached to her back and seized an arrow. She strung the bow and held it steady. Back to back, the Prince and Farah stood, not speaking a word. The Old Man, still sitting at his desk, stared around in amazement. Moments passed, eyes traced 'round the room. The Prince fell to the ground, his hands clutching it.

"Augh!" the Prince yelled in pain. Farah dropped to his side, a worried look upon her face.

"Prince!" she yelled. "Prince! Prince! What's wrong!"

"It's getting worse! The pain! It's getting worse!"

A cloud of smoke, thick black smoke, erupted from the middle of nowhere. A figure, rather tall, stood before them. The Prince screamed in agony.

"Goodbye Prince." The figure said with a smirk, two long slender gold blades draped down his side, each engraved with symbols. He crossed the room and standing above the Prince, he brought the blade down.


End file.
